


Prompts

by Sabulana



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabulana/pseuds/Sabulana
Summary: A collection of Gobblepot fics from tumblr prompts and requests.Tags will be updated as I go, if necessary. If anything comes with a specific warning, I'll put it in the chapter notes at the start of the fic.





	1. I told you not to fall in love with me.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt “I told you not to fall in love with me.” as requested by destielfourever on tumblr. :)
> 
> Angst ahead!
> 
> Originally written months ago, only slightly edited. :)

It had started in frustration, in loneliness and desperation. Jim was still hurting from Lee’s latest departure. Oswald was still hurting from… whatever had happened between himself and Nygma. He hadn’t explained everything, and Jim hadn’t asked. It was obviously painful, and their arrangement was too fragile to risk.

There was just one rule, when it became obvious that they were going to keep falling into bed together, or against the wall, or over Oswald’s desk:

Do not fall in love.

The results of getting emotions involved would be catastrophic. It would ruin both of them. So when Oswald brought it up, making Jim swear that their coupling would simply be about the physical pleasures it brought them, Jim readily agreed.

And yet Jim couldn’t help the way his heart started to skip a beat at the sight of Oswald. It didn’t even matter that Oswald didn’t light up the way he once used to when Jim walked into the room. Then there were the dreams, once just a replay of their meetings, but now bizarrely domestic - sharing a meal in Jim’s kitchen, taking a walk together, and other half-remembered visions that left Jim feeling bereft when he finally awoke each morning.

But they had their rule, and so Jim kept his feelings to himself. Oswald didn’t seem anywhere near as affected as Jim, straightening up his clothes and leaving - or else kicking Jim out as soon as they were sufficiently recovered.

Things couldn’t continue as they were though. Eventually Oswald found himself in trouble with the police again. It probably wasn’t anything that he couldn’t get out of one way or another. He had connections, and he had money, and there were always people willing to take a bribe in Gotham.

Yet in the end, Oswald didn’t have to do anything. When Jim found himself alone in the evidence room, putting away a box of evidence on an unrelated case, he found himself lingering in front of the evidence for the case against Oswald.

He’d lose Oswald, if this case went through. To Blackgate or, heaven forbid, to Arkham again. To any one of a number of fates that could befall him in either of those institutions.

But perhaps Oswald would be grateful, if Jim were to help him, unasked. Maybe there was a chance that his feelings would be returned, a confession mixed in with Oswald’s thanks.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Jim slipped a little packet from the box into his pocket. A tape recording, compromising Oswald and linking him to murder and weapons smuggling. Without it, the case would be a lot harder to close. Perhaps the loss of it would cause the case to collapse altogether.

It made Jim feel sick to do it. His hands shook as he left the evidence room. He forced a smile for his colleagues, and when Harvey asked it he was alright, he feigned illness and didn’t protest when Harvey sent him home early.

“Boy, you must really be sick,” Harvey said. “Stay away from me, I don’t want to catch anything.” He grinned to show he was joking, and Jim tried to smile back but it felt more like a grimace.

The Iceberg Lounge would be closed at this time, and there was no guarantee that Oswald would be there, so Jim went straight back to his apartment. He lay on his sofa, staring at the tape he’d stolen.

God, what had Oswald done to him?

Harvey called round after work, bringing a soup and making sure Jim was alright. Jim hid the tape in his bedroom, where Harvey was sure not to go, and pretended to have a stomach bug. He dutifully ate the soup, and promised to get a good night’s sleep.

After Harvey left, extracting promises that Jim would take care of himself, Jim changed his clothes and went to find Oswald at the Iceberg Lounge.

One of his lackeys pointed him up to Oswald’s office, where the notorious crime lord was poring over accounts when Jim walked in.

“Jim, old friend, you look dreadful,” Oswald greeted, looking mildly concerned. “Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah might as well,” Jim muttered. He sank into a chair in front of Oswald’s desk and put his head in his hands.

He waited until Oswald poured him a measure of scotch that was well above the standard of anything he would have bought for himself.

“So what brings you here?” Oswald asked, settling back into his chair on the other side of the desk. “Looking like that, I can’t imagine you’re in the mood for any of our usual… distractions.”

Jim grimaced and tossed back the scotch. “No, I… I…. Did something at work today.”

“People usually do things at their place of employment, yes,” Oswald replied neutrally.

Jim reached into his pocket, and pulled out the tape, still in the evidence bag. He slid it across the desk with a shaking hand.

“Jim… this is…” Oswald took it, held it up to examine the carefully printed notes. He put it down on the desk, fixing Jim with a serious gaze. “I didn’t ask you for this, Jim.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

Jim couldn’t reply. The words were stuck in his throat, choking him. He looked at Oswald, both willing him to understand so that he wouldn’t have to speak, and yet also hoping he wouldn’t, would let Jim go on with the illusion that perhaps they could be more than enemies who fucked around sometimes.

“Oh, Jim…” The pitying look made Jim’s heart sink. Of course Oswald understood.

Oswald limped around his desk, clutching the little bag. He tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket, and bent to stroke a hand gently down Jim’s face.

“I told you not to fall in love with me,” he said, gently. Like he was talking to an animal that might spook at any moment.

He turned and walked away then, off to destroy the evidence he hadn’t had to ask Jim to steal for him. If he ever would have done that. Jim’s eyes blurred with helpless tears.

Oswald paused at the office door. He didn’t turn around, for which Jim was grateful.

“Perhaps it’s best if we don’t continue our… arrangement,” he said. “Goodbye, old friend. I trust you can see yourself out.”

Left alone in Oswald’s office, Jim let himself cry bitter tears until he felt composed enough to leave. He wouldn’t be returning, not on personal business, but he felt like he was leaving a piece of himself behind when he finally closed the door behind him.


	2. The way you flirt is shameful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "The way you flirt is shameful." which was requested by [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder). 
> 
> Cracky, fluff. :)
> 
> Originally written months ago, mildly edited. :)

There was an anonymous delivery waiting for Jim Gordon when he and Harvey returned to the precinct. It was an innocuous little box, wrapped up in a bow and left at the front desk. The label had been printed from a computer, carefully cut out and glued to the tag. After a thorough examination to prove it wasn’t dangerous, Jim was allowed to open it.

Shortly afterwards, a vicious murderer was given a life sentence in Blackgate, thanks to the CCTV footage on the tape inside the box.

This being Gotham it wasn’t long before another gruesome murder was discovered. The case took Jim and Harvey to the Iceberg Lounge, and to Penguin’s office there.

“Hello, Jim. You’ve been busy. I’ve seen the headlines. What a good thing you had all the evidence you needed to put that man behind bars, yes?”

Oswald looked into Jim’s eyes and smiled innocently. Jim was immediately put on his guard.

If Oswald had sent the box, did he expect a favour?

But no such requests were forthcoming. Jim and Harvey left the club with a lead to follow up, and a killer to catch.

Jim went over all the evidence from his last case, looking for a way in which Oswald benefitted from a random murderer being jailed. There was no link whatsoever, but it seemed unlikely that Oswald would help purely out of the goodness of his heart.

But things kept happening. Key pieces of evidence turned up at the right time, all anonymous and all obviously delivered courtesy of Oswald Cobblepot.

Even Harvey noticed.

“He’s up to something,” he warned. “Watch yourself, Jim.”

“I’ve not asked him for any of this,” Jim pointed out.

“That’s what makes it more suspicious,” Harvey replied.

Then a terrified murderer turned himself in, visibly trembling.

“He can’t get me in Blackgate, right?” he asked Jim, shortly before being led out of the interview room. He’d given a full confession, and Jim wondered what could possibly scare a man twice his size into admitting he’d been the one to mince up his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend.

Especially when none of it was linked to mob business in any way.

The club was packed when Jim arrived, Harvey in tow. Oswald perched on a stool at the end of the bar, a cocktail glass by his elbow. He watched the crowds until he spotted Jim coming towards him and smiled brightly.

“Jim! To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.

“Cut the crap,” Jim said rudely. “What do you want from me?”

“Jim, old friend…” Oswald looked up at him, hurt.

“You don’t help anyone else close their cases. Just mine. I never asked you to. So tell me what you want,” Jim demanded. “What’s in this for you?”

“I thought you were a detective, Jim,” Oswald said reproachfully.

Somewhere behind Jim, Harvey muttered to himself, “Oh my god.”

“I really don’t know how much more obvious I can be,” Oswald continued. “Not without attracting unwanted attention, anyway. That said, Ivy did write me a list… where did I put it..?” Oswald patted down his pockets, then pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper.

Jim kept silent in confusion. Harvey signaled to the woman behind the bar and ordered a double whiskey.

Oswald glanced through the note, turning bright red. “Right, well.” He cleared his throat. “That’s a nice suit. Can I talk you out of it?”

Jim stared, dumbfounded.

Harvey tossed his drink back and ordered another. “I am not drunk enough to listen to this.”

When no reaction from Jim was forthcoming, Oswald kept going.

“Your eyes are blue, like the ocean, and baby, I’m lost at sea.” Oswald looked down at the note. “Baby. Really,” he huffed, sounding a little disgusted.

Harvey leaned around Jim and snatched the list from Oswald’s hand. “The way you flirt is shameful. I am suffering second hand shame just standing next to you.” He turned to Jim. “And you’re not much better.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You don’t manhandle anyone the way you do Penguin, like you’re looking for every excuse to touch him.” Harvey glanced over the list. “Jesus. It’s like a kid wrote this list.” He crumpled it up. “You two. Talk to each other. Work your shit out. Use words. Not these words.” He held up the note. “Now, I am going home. You and I-” He pointed a finger at Jim. “We’re going to talk in the morning and I swear to god, if you give me any details of what goes on between you two after I leave, I am going to bust you down to traffic duty so fast your head will spin. I can and will do that. Don’t test me.” He turned to Oswald. “And you, Penguin, if you hurt him, we’re going to have a trip out to the docks and you will not be coming back. We clear?”

“Clear,” Oswald agreed quickly. He openly gaped at Harvey, too stunned to react.

“See you in the morning, partner,” Harvey said, clapping Jim on the shoulder.

“But you’ve been drinking,” Jim protested weakly.

“Not enough to help me forget this shambolic display, more’s the pity,” Harvey replied. He weaved his way through the crowds and was gone, muttering and shaking his head.

“I think I just lost my ride home,” Jim said, watching the crowds swallow Harvey.

“Allow me to arrange something,” Oswald said, pulling out his phone. “It’s the least I can do after all… this.” He looked miserable and mortified, unwilling to look Jim in the eyes any more.

Jim stopped him with a hand on his arm. “There’s no rush, is there? After all… I thought you wanted to talk me out of this suit?” He smirked at Oswald, the situation finally sinking in.

Oswald groaned. “Please stop. As if I’m not humiliated enough already.”

“How about a deal?” Jim suggested. “If you drop the cheesy pick up lines, I’ll go out for dinner with you one night.”

Oswald straightened up so suddenly it looked almost painful. “…One dinner… date?”

“And we’ll see what happens from there,” Jim added, unable to say anything else in the face of the naked hope on Oswald’s face. “And if you want to keep helping me close cases, I’m not going to complain.” He paused, then added, “Anymore.”

Oswald grinned shyly. “Well then, I believe you have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has any requests or prompts, you can send me an ask over at [Emmageddon](http://emmageddon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Feedback of all kinds is loved, including concrit. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt [here](http://gobblepotgazette.tumblr.com/post/171633517184/whomerlockwood-gobblepot-fanfiction-prompt-im):   
> _I’m probably not the first one with this idea but here we go:_
> 
> _Harvey went to Penguin (Jim doesn’t know he did) to “talk” with him about his romantic relationship with Jim._
> 
> _Harvey: Listen, I’m not a big fan of your relationship with Jim. Hell, who knows why he would want to be a relationship with you, but if you are hurting Jim in the slightest way then trust me, you haven’t seen the last of me."_
> 
> I saw this and felt kinda inspired, so here's a ficlet. 
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder)

Oswald’s club was nearly empty when Harvey strolled in early one afternoon. It wasn't open yet, but Oswald could be relied on to be found there, rather than at home most days. 

A few of Oswald’s men lurked at the edge of the room, but they made no attempt to stop Harvey as he headed straight for Oswald’s office.

“Penguin, we need to talk,” Harvey said loudly, announcing his presence before he even reached the door. He flung the door open and took a seat across from Oswald’s desk without waiting for an invitation. 

“Bullock. So delightful to see you. Is Jim not with you?” Penguin asked, all false cheer and fake smile.

“Jim’s the reason I'm here,” Harvey said. “I know about you and him.”

“Me and Jim? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean,” Penguin replied, frowning slightly.

Harvey wasn't enough of a fool to fall for the act. “I know you and he are in some kind of relationship,” he said.

Penguin’s expression became more closed off. “Relationship, Detective?”

“You're boning, or whatever it is penguins do with their mates. I  _ really _ don't want to know the details, I don't need to know what you two get up to,” Harvey said.

“Then why are you here?” asked Penguin, which was as good as an admission.

Harvey took a breath and glared. “Don't hurt him. Jim’s an idiot, and I have no idea what he expects to happen, but I can only see this ending badly, for all involved, and I swear to god if you try to take him down, if you try in any way to destroy his career, or if I find out you're using him, then there is nothing on this earth that will stop me from coming after you with everything I've got. You may have power now, but I remember the snivelling umbrella boy you used to be and I'm not afraid of you.”

Oswald sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. “You're serious about this, aren't you?” 

“More serious than I have ever been in my entire life. You do anything to hurt Jim and you'll wish you'd never been born,” Harvey replied. 

Penguin had stopped smiling, which Harvey took as a good sign. “I don't intend any harm to Jim. I'm not using him for information or to undermine him or anything like that. What we have is… different.”

“Don't tell me you love him. You don't know the first thing about love,” Harvey scoffed.

Penguin actually flinched at that and Harvey wondered if he'd succeeded in hitting a nerve. “I don't — you're right, that I don't know much about it,” Oswald admitted stiffly. “And I would hesitate to apply the label here, but… I do feel a great affection for him. When we're together, we're just Oswald and Jim, not a crime lord and a cop. We don't discuss our jobs, and so far, that's working for us.”

“But for how long?” Harvey asked.

Oswald shrugged helplessly. “I don't know. Who among us can truly predict the future? But I intend to enjoy what we have, at least until… Well, until it ends.” He gave a small, bitter smile, no longer full of bravado.

Harvey raised his eyebrows. “You're serious about this? It's not just some game to you, is it?”

Penguin shook his head. “No game. Whatever this is that I have with Jim, however it started, it can't last,” he said softly. “I know that. But I fully intend to make the most of this time I've got with him.”

Harvey nodded, almost approvingly. He didn't really approve of Jim being with Penguin in any sense — Jim could do so much better, and why would he want to be with Gotham’s pubic enemy number one? Not to mention Jim usually went for gorgeous women, and Penguin was pretty much the opposite of that, in Harvey’s opinion. He just couldn't understand why Jim might feel any attraction to him at all. 

“So when Jim decides he's had enough, you'll just let him go? You won't use this against him?”

Penguin shrugged. “I'm not saying I won't fight for him, because I will, but if I can't change his mind, I won't blackmail him. This is private, and I don't necessarily need it to be public information either.”

Harvey was still skeptical. If this ended badly — and with these two, that would likely mean a bodycount, because how else could this end but violently? — then Harvey knew Penguin would use every tool he had available, every piece of ammunition he had, to make Jim suffer. 

“I don't believe that for one goddamn second,” Harvey said. “But you know that when all this ends, I'll have Jim’s back, no matter what.”

Penguin nodded solemnly. “He's lucky to have a friend like you.”

“So we're understood, then? You don't hurt Jim and I don't come after you.”

“Yes, Detective Bullock,” Penguin said, then smiled, as friendly as Harvey had ever seen him. “As long as you also understand that I'm not even slightly intimidated. For all your threats and declarations, in the end, there will be nothing you can actually do to me.”

Harvey stood up, scowling. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you, Penguin.”

He left as abruptly as he came, furious with Jim and Penguin; Jim, because he went and started sleeping with someone who was supposed to be the enemy, and Oswald for being serious about this fling or whatever it was. If it was just sex then maybe, just  _ maybe _ Harvey would understand, but whenever Oswald came up in conversation or a text came through, Jim would go all soft-eyed and smile, so there were clearly deeper feelings involved. Oswald wasn't immune to those feelings either. Harvey had seen the way he'd looked when they were discussing Jim. 

But most of all Harvey was furious with himself for getting caught up in this nonsense and for letting Oswald get to him. He'd gone to put the fear of god into the slimy little rat, and failed spectacularly. He just hoped that when this all came crashing down, the bodycount wouldn't include himself or Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do let me know what you think, either in the comments box below or by clicking that lovely kudos button! :) Alternatively, you can also find me on tumblr as [emmageddon](http://emmageddon.tumblr.com/). Send me an ask, a request, whatever. It's all good. <3

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any requests or prompts, you can send me an ask over at [Emmageddon](http://emmageddon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Feedback of all kinds is loved, including concrit. :)


End file.
